


Lavender

by dr_zook



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Genderswitch, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Request was: <i>a temporary spell genderswitches Gojyo and Sanzo. Somehow Gojyo ends up giving Sanzo a full-body oil massage. (optional: Hakkai and Goku voyeurism)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caeseria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/gifts).



When Hakkai tells them after a lengthy chi examination that it's not permanent, Gojyo laughed hysterically. Sanzo only reloaded his Smith & Wesson.

_Non permanent-_ – that sounded like a hair tint. Not a dye-– a tint. Easy to rinse.

"Really, it's probably gone in a few days," their healer says readjusting his sash and monocle. "I got the impression it's already wearing off." After these chi implementations he's always rearranging his sash, like a doctor would wash and sanitize his hands.

Usually it's also the signal for Gojyo that everything will be fine soon, that he's over the hump. But not this time.

Sanzo's huge boobs are trembling. He's trying to not explode, and Gojyo wonders how he manages. "Why. And Who?" His voice-- or her voice? Anyway, the blonde's voice is a bit trembling and she's breathing strangely, like she's about to vomit any second. And Gojyo has seen his share of trembling, almost vomiting girls.

Hakkai smiles Smile #5, the soothing smile. Soothing but indicating: _Sorry, that's all I can do for now. The rest is patience._ "It was probably that gypsy woman who Sanzo told to fuck herself yesterday."

"Ah, not that beaut!" Gojyo shouts before thinking, something he's brought to perfection throughout the last years.

"--I'll kill her. We're driving back," Sanzo declares while attempting to shove Gojyo hard in the ribs for letting his dick do the thinky things _again_ , but there is an obstacle. Kind of. Gojyo's breast. Not as impressive as Sanzo's hooters, but not bad actually. A bit firmer and, mhh, their texture and size are just perfect. Gojyo had checked them properly earlier of course. And detected that there is actually no trusty Mr Dickhead anymore as well...

"Yeah, we should ask her," Gojyo whines.

Hakkai laughs Laugh #7, the clement laugh. Clement but indicating: _I know more than you here, trust me. And don't make me try to explain. You wouldn't like to hear, really._ "It's not necessary, I know that type of spell. It's a simple pay-back spell, not harming."

"Not. Harming." Sanzo fumes surprisingly self-controlled. "I'll kill her." She's sounding determined.

Hakkai looks stern. "We don't have time for that, Sanzo. And you know it." Sanzo growls. "I'm going to get supplies with Goku. Do you, ah, need anything?"

Gojyo blanches. "Don't tell me it's rag time as well." He desperately tries to listen to what his girl parts are whispering to him-- but he never had them before, so it's hard to tell if there's something wrong. Or, you know, different than it should be. Or, you know, eh: fuck pc.

Hakkai coughs. "I'll get you something. It's better to be prepared for eventualities." His fingers make _The gold card, please_ wave in Sanzo's direction, tuck it then somewhere inside his sash and he's gone, fetching the chimp somewhere outside, probably.

Sanzo is clearly disturbed. She's slumped in her seat at the table. No harsh remarks about Gojyo, no bullet holes in the wall behind him, nothing. Her robes are accentuating the new curves beneath exquisitely. She's steadying her head with her hands, like it's too heavy right now.

Unfortunately it's as Gojyo has feared: just because there are whispering girl parts now doesn't mean that his currently out of order dick disappeared from his mind like he disappeared from his body. Fuck. "I'll get us some booze," he offers.

"That's the best news today," Sanzo mumbles and lets her head drop backwards. "Fuck." Her buttermilk neck is long and enticing.

Right, that's it. Gojyo arranges the clothes around his new-but-not-new skin in a way it's not obstructing him and leaves their room.

///

Gojyo is finally convinced that Hakkai is a perverted and manipulating bastard. A part of him is proud of the detection, another aghast, because Gojyo ends up as being manipulated. But he is also manipulating. Heh, Hakkai would be proud of this wordplay.

Anyway, it's only because Sanzo seems to be frighteningly swayed by that girl thing. Maybe it's the hormones. Probably, because after half the bottle of gin he had declared that the small of his back hurts like a defiled bitch. Hakkai, on the other hand, had declared that he won't share a room with one of them, because he didn't think of it as appropriate.

The evidence of their spell would be too much to handle for Sanzo and Gojyo, so it would be of no use to ask them to be nice and normal around him and Goku. "It's for your own good." Then he had put a box of Tampax, another with sanitary napkins, some painkillers and a bottle of lavender massage oil on the table and went to feed Goku. Sanzo and Gojyo weren't hungry; they had eaten tons of junk before, because they have had booze munchies.

Maybe this girl bonding thing was easier than male bonding. Of course, you could also call it gender switch bonding. Whatever.

But okay, back to the lavender massage oil. Gojyo had stared a hole in Hakkai's head, because the healer just left the room, leaving _him_ with Sanzo, who was laying on her back demanding paracetamol and another smoke.

"You know," Gojyo starts. "I could give you a massage." He doesn't feel any ache so far, but he knows from former girlfriends that some of them liked massages during that time of the month. Others only cramped around warm water bottles and wanted to sleep.

Sanzo muffles takes a long, suffering drag from her cigarette and looks at him. "Don't dare to assume I lost my common sense along with my genitals, pervy cockroach." Her voice is smoky and smooth. A bit raspy.

Gojyo refrains from correcting Sanzo that he (or she?) didn't loose any genitals. Far from it, he gained something different. Maybe even something better. But implying something like this would result in his brain matter splayed across his pillow. Nevertheless wasn't Sanzo's answer a plain _no_. Gojyo heard that.

He rolls onto his side, facing Sanzo on the opposite bed. The shifting of boob material on his chest doesn't feel exactly bad, just different. He imagines himself as a nice, wavy silhouette due to his slightly wider pelvis now. Okay, so his vanity has definitely grown. Can't help it with a shaped body like this, can you.

And you could have called Sanzo 'beautiful' before (and earned yourself a shot knee or something), but Sanzo as a girl is just-- almost too much. The soft golden hair, those fine cheek bones. The eternal scowl making her look tough instead of constantly pissed. She mumbles something, eyes closed.

"What?" Gojyo drawls. His nipples are perking up as he watches Sanzo's thin raspberry lips.

Plum eyes stare at him. "I said, I don't want anyone to see me like this. Nobody. Understand?"

"But you'd like a massage?" Gojyo assumes audaciously. "You know, it can help your cramping if you're relaxing everything else. Till the pills work their part."

The scowl deepens. "I don't trust you with _this_." This being her body, of course. She pats her thighs in a strange, uncomfortable way. "I'll call Hakkai."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that. Didn't you sense how uncomfortable he is around us?" Gojyo tries to look considerate enough. "We should manage ourselves. And, hey: I won't hit on you!" He chuckles. "I'm a girl myself, remember?" He laughs and pokes one of his boobs.

It's obviously the flimsiest reassurance he could think of, and yet.

Sanzo's gaze tells a dozen stories. She takes a swig of gin from the bottle on the night stand between their beds. Gojyo just slides from the mattress and fetches the bottle of oil. Hell, Hakkai even bought _organic_ stuff. Gojyo imagines the Three Floaty Heads going through the monthly bill, seeing the purchases, ears fuming. Gods, what a sight.

"You should, you know, shuck the robe. I can't do dry massages, and it's not that comfortable anyway, really."

Sanzo stares at him. Gojyo's not even sure that she's really in pain so much. Or that Sanzo trusts him that much. Or that he's maybe really just that daring.

Because Sanzo raises and unfolds her robes, shedding them. Then she opens the fly of her damn snug jeans and shoves them off her sinewy perfect legs. She's avoiding Gojyo's eyes by now, sitting back on the bed. Clad only in boxer shorts and a wife beater by now; figures that her D cups didn't like the usual Sanzo fetish gear top.

She looks frailer than Gojyo would have thought. He tentatively sits down besides her. "Hey," Gojyo says. "Hakkai says this will pass. And you know that he's always right." Sanzo's head hangs down, cigarette dangling from her lips. Smoke curls waft through her golden mane that needs a good cut from Hakkai soon.

"It's the hormones," Sanzo eventually says. "They're fucking with me. I feel like a bloated corpse."

"I'm sorry," Gojyo says sincerely. A vein pulsates across Sanzo's collarbone. She's smelling of smoke and talcum powder, gin and rain.

"It's not fair," she goes on. "That you're obviously not feeling it." Gojyo swears he hears a pout.

"Um, that's not right. I feel something as well. It's like being... a bit disarranged. But it's still my body, somehow. It's like a weird kind of hangover, because... well, I know it will pass." He tries to sound uplifting. It's not his fault that Sanzo has had a problem before with his body. And why should it have changed now?

Sanzo snuffs the cigarette and hesitates.

"Lay back," Gojyo tries to encourage her with a confident smile.

Sanzo looks at him warily. "I must be clearly out of my mind," she murmurs as she climbs on her blankets, shedding her shirt in the movement. "Don't fuck this up, Sha," she tells the pillow in front of her face.

Gojyo stares and tries not to drool. When this is over, he'll never be able again to share a bath with Sanzo: Her breasts are cushioning the chiselled torso; the dimples on the small of her back are looking terribly inviting. The soft mount of her bottom is imaginable beneath the shorts, which are now clinging much closer to her hips than they clung to Mr Prissy Monk's bony ass.

"I hear your drool dripping, Gojyo," Sanzo informs her pillow. "Either you're beginning this very second, or I'm killing you."

For a moment Gojyo hears both their breathings, feels his own heartbeat rush through his lungs. He opens the bottle and warms a palm full of the oil in his hands. Then he starts, tentative small strokes across Sanzo's creamy shoulder blades, stronger ones kneading the tight muscles supporting her neck. More self-confidently along her spine, carefully around the kidneys.

The dimples are paralyzing him. Sanzo makes small _Ooof_ sounds, and especially the muscles of her shoulder girdle are intractable. Gojyo thinks about Hakkai and the fact that he didn't bring a hot water bottle along, but _fucking lavender oil._ About how he had looked at them, clearly drawn between scientific interest and fundamental disturbance. And how the latter obviously won.

Gojyo's strokes are becoming confident by now, yet he doesn't dare to straddle the other. Sanzo is relaxed like seldom before; the redhead even dares to massage the back of her legs. They're covered with soft and stray blonde hair and soon also reeking of the heady purple flower.

All of Sanzo's thankfully thirsty skin is gleaming sated eventually. Gojyo's sure he's smiling smugly. "Oh, Gojyo-san," the girls were sometimes moaning, sometimes squealing. "You're doing magic with your hands!" A magician, that's what he is, because scary Sanzo is laying belly-down in front of him, snoring softly.

Gojyo leans back and smiles. Pats his trousers for a rewarding smoke and lights it after drawing a blanket over the almost naked blonde, whose breathing sounds deep and healthy.

"I hope you'll remember this, Sanzo," he whispers and shucks his own trousers including underpants, gliding under his bedspread. Like he would be able to _not_ touch himself a) sharing the room with such a beauty, easy to fantasize about and b) inhibiting his own body, equipped like this.

Let's see how quiet he could be. Let's see how _non permanent_ things would be.


End file.
